Latest news with #LoneSurvivor
Yahoo
26-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Memorial Day event recreates ‘Lone Survivor' hero's grueling Navy SEAL workout: ‘Very moving'
They're a force to be reckoned with. Hundreds of military members and Long Islanders took part in a grueling, emotional event Saturday to commemorate the extraordinary grit of Navy Lt. Michael Murphy, a slain SEAL from Patchogue whose heroics were worthy of Hollywood. Participants of the annual Suffolk County gathering took on the punishing workout routine of the 29-year-old Navy SEAL, who was killed in action in 2005, deliberately sacrificing himself to Taliban gunfire to call in reinforcements during a famous mission portrayed in the Peter Berg film 'Lone Survivor.' 'It's a 1-mile run followed by 100 pull-ups, 200 push-ups, 300 air squats, capped off with another 1-mile run,' said former SEAL Kaj Larsen, who was Murphy's roommate during Basic Underwater Demolition SEAL training, or BUD/S, to The Post. 'To do it at the full expression of the Murph, you do it wearing a 20-pound bulletproof vest,' Larsen said. Larsen and Murphy, who Taylor Kitsch portrays as a main character in the 2013 flick, first concocted the daunting exercise on their base in Coronado, Calif. Larsen, now 47, re-enacted it Saturday along with nearly 350 other people at the LT Michael P. Murphy Navy SEAL Museum in Sayville, running his first mile with an American flag in hand in honor of his dear friend. 'I know if Mike were down here, we'd be right next to each other, pushing ourselves, seeing who could win,' said Larsen, who knew many of the other 18 service members who perished along with Murphy during 'Operation Red Wings' in Afghanistan in late June 2005. Since the museum opened in 2022, the annual Memorial Day Weekend event has exponentially increased in local popularity, according to Executive Director and former SEAL Chris Wyllie. He noted that one woman flew in from Italy just to do 'The Murph' challenge. 'My big focus is making this an emotional experience that's so positive and fun that people want to come back and want the news to spread,' Wyllie said. For Murphy's brother, John Murphy, a 37-year-old SUNY police officer stationed in Stony Brook, it represents a bigger picture. 'It's very moving and very nice to see that people appreciate and have not lost sight of the meaning behind this weekend,' he said. The beginnings of the event date back to 2007, when Air Force Capt. Joshua Appel — the man who recovered Murphy's body from the horrific firefight — first tried it in a Tucson, Ariz., gym to venerate the sacrifice of the SEALs and the Army Night Stalkers, the nickname for an elite military air group, that day. 'The Murph' went on become a Memorial Day Weekend tradition done by athletes around the globe. 'Michael could do it in about 32 minutes, but once in Iraq, he was able to in 28,' said his father, Daniel Murphy, a Vietnam veteran heavily involved in the museum. A few years ago, the dad moved to Wading River, LI, to be closer to Calverton National Cemetery to visit Michael's grave about twice a week. During visits there, he talks to his son, updating him on what's happening in the museum and lets him know who stopped in. 'I'm going to tell him how competitive it was this year,' Daniel Murphy said. 'We've had two people who did it in 33 minutes and 34 minutes. I'll explain to him that, and how many people came through this time.' Muprhy's mother, Maureen Murphy, who regularly gives tours at the museum, appreciates that the event helps more people 'get to know' her son. 'He had a big heart, and honestly, he could have his leg or his arm torn off and not cry,' she said of her son, who was a lifeguard and Penn State graduate before becoming a SEAL. 'But if his friends were having a hard time, he'd cry with them,' she said. Larsen remembers how Murphy's call to duty was only rivaled by his caring for his buddies, even in just the littlest ways, such as when Larsen had to go through SEAL hell week after he did. 'I was like, cold, almost hypothermic, on just the hardest, hardest night,' Larsen recalled. 'Out of nowhere, I see this figure in camouflage sneak around the corner of the barracks with a Snickers bar — and it was Murph. He took care of his brothers,' he added of the beloved man widely nicknamed 'the protector.' Nearly two decades since his death, Murphy — who posthumously awarded the medal of honor — is still changing lives, including 16-year-old Finn Schiavone of Bay Shore, who was paralyzed in middle school from a wrestling accident. The wheelchair-bound teen met Dan Murphy at the museum and credits the family for helping him find the strength to recover fully through rigorous physical therapy. 'I don't even know how to explain it. They instilled a sense of drive into me,' said the high-schooler, who marvelously completed the challenge this year. 'I want to apply to the Naval Academy and hopefully become a SEAL,' said Schiavone, who wore a weighted vest signed by Robert O'Neill, the SEAL who killed Osama Bin Laden.
New York Post
25-05-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Post
Memorial Day event recreates ‘Lone Survivor' hero's grueling Navy SEAL workout: ‘Very moving'
They're a force to be reckoned with. Hundreds of military members and Long Islanders took part in a grueling, emotional event Saturday to commemorate the extraordinary grit of Navy Lt. Michael Murphy, a slain SEAL from Patchogue whose heroics were worthy of Hollywood. Participants of the annual Suffolk County gathering took on the punishing workout routine of the 29-year-old Navy SEAL, who was killed in action in 2005, deliberately sacrificing himself to Taliban gunfire to call in reinforcements during a famous mission portrayed in the Peter Berg film 'Lone Survivor.' 4 Lt. Commander Kai Larsen, LT Michael P. Murphy's roommate in Seal Training, leads off over 300 participants, one from as far away as Italy, in the 2025 Murph Challenge at The LT Michael P. Murphy Navy SEAL Museum in West Sayville, NY. Dennis A. Clark 'It's a 1-mile run followed by 100 pull-ups, 200 push-ups, 300 air squats, capped off with another 1-mile run,' said former SEAL Kaj Larsen, who was Murphy's roommate during Basic Underwater Demolition SEAL training, or BUD/S, to The Post. 'To do it at the full expression of the Murph, you do it wearing a 20-pound bulletproof vest,' Larsen said. Larsen and Murphy, who Taylor Kitsch portrays as a main character in the 2013 flick, first concocted the daunting exercise on their base in Coronado, Calif. Larsen, now 47, re-enacted it Saturday along with nearly 350 other people at the LT Michael P. Murphy Navy SEAL Museum in Sayville, running his first mile with an American flag in hand in honor of his dear friend. 'I know if Mike were down here, we'd be right next to each other, pushing ourselves, seeing who could win,' said Larsen, who knew many of the other 18 service members who perished along with Murphy during 'Operation Red Wings' in Afghanistan in late June 2005. 4 Navy Lt. Michael Murphy was killed in action by the Taliban in 2005. LP Media Since the museum opened in 2022, the annual Memorial Day Weekend event has exponentially increased in local popularity, according to Executive Director and former SEAL Chris Wyllie. He noted that one woman flew in from Italy just to do 'The Murph' challenge. 'My big focus is making this an emotional experience that's so positive and fun that people want to come back and want the news to spread,' Wyllie said. For Murphy's brother, John Murphy, a 37-year-old SUNY police officer stationed in Stony Brook, it represents a bigger picture. 'It's very moving and very nice to see that people appreciate and have not lost sight of the meaning behind this weekend,' he said. A hero's memory The beginnings of the event date back to 2007, when Air Force Capt. Joshua Appel — the man who recovered Murphy's body from the horrific firefight — first tried it in a Tucson, Ariz., gym to venerate the sacrifice of the SEALs and the Army Night Stalkers, the nickname for an elite military air group, that day. 'The Murph' went on become a Memorial Day Weekend tradition done by athletes around the globe. 'Michael could do it in about 32 minutes, but once in Iraq, he was able to in 28,' said his father, Daniel Murphy, a Vietnam veteran heavily involved in the museum. A few years ago, the dad moved to Wading River, LI, to be closer to Calverton National Cemetery to visit Michael's grave about twice a week. During visits there, he talks to his son, updating him on what's happening in the museum and lets him know who stopped in. 'I'm going to tell him how competitive it was this year,' Daniel Murphy said. 'We've had two people who did it in 33 minutes and 34 minutes. I'll explain to him that, and how many people came through this time.' 4 Over 300 people participated, one from as far away as Italy, in the 2025 Murph Challenge at The LT Michael P. Murphy Navy SEAL Museum in West Sayville, NY. Dennis A. Clark Muprhy's mother, Maureen Murphy, who regularly gives tours at the museum, appreciates that the event helps more people 'get to know' her son. 'He had a big heart, and honestly, he could have his leg or his arm torn off and not cry,' she said of her son, who was a lifeguard and Penn State graduate before becoming a SEAL. 'But if his friends were having a hard time, he'd cry with them,' she said. Larsen remembers how Murphy's call to duty was only rivaled by his caring for his buddies, even in just the littlest ways, such as when Larsen had to go through SEAL hell week after he did. 'I was like, cold, almost hypothermic, on just the hardest, hardest night,' Larsen recalled. 4 Sixteen-year0old Finn Schiavone, who was wheelchair bound last year due to a wrestling injury, competed today in the 2025 Murph Challenge at The LT Michael P. Murphy Navy SEAL Museum in West Sayville, NY. Dennis A. Clark 'Out of nowhere, I see this figure in camouflage sneak around the corner of the barracks with a Snickers bar — and it was Murph. He took care of his brothers,' he added of the beloved man widely nicknamed 'the protector.' Nearly two decades since his death, Murphy — who posthumously awarded the medal of honor — is still changing lives, including 16-year-old Finn Schiavone of Bay Shore, who was paralyzed in middle school from a wrestling accident. The wheelchair-bound teen met Dan Murphy at the museum and credits the family for helping him find the strength to recover fully through rigorous physical therapy. 'I don't even know how to explain it. They instilled a sense of drive into me,' said the high-schooler, who marvelously completed the challenge this year. 'I want to apply to the Naval Academy and hopefully become a SEAL,' said Schiavone, who wore a weighted vest signed by Robert O'Neill, the SEAL who killed Osama Bin Laden.
Yahoo
23-05-2025
- Health
- Yahoo
Medal of Honor hero Lt. Murphy inspires Murph Challenge
PEORIA Ill. (WMBD) — The Resilience Project undertakes the Murph Challenge to honor the legacy of a U.S. sailor and all veterans on Memorial Day weekend. It's the annual Lt. Michael Murphy challenge, named for the Navy SEAL who died in 2005 while in Afghanistan and in the process earned the Medal of Honor, the nation's highest award for valor. The Resilience Project was created by combat veterans with a goal to help other vets transition back into civilian life. 'Twenty-two veterans commit suicide a day, our goal is to reduce that in the Peoria area, down to zero,' said Dr. Ben Deig of Peoria Spine and Sport and also a veteran The group offers educational resources, some financial assistance, and a variety of physical and mental health services, and on Memorial Day weekend, the Murph Challenge as a way of fueling the help that the RP provides. The workout consists of a mile run, 100 pull-ups, 200 push-ups, 300 squats and another mile run. And you do all that while wearing 20 additional pounds of weight. The weight is akin to how Murphy used to wear body armor while undertaking his workout. Registration for the challenge ranges from $35 – $60. Added Deig: 'Not gonna lie, it's a tough workout' but also reminded that one doesn't need to do the challenge to donate, 'come out, hang out with us. It's more community engagement and building than it is to suffer through the workout.' The Murph Challenge begins at 10 a.m., May 24, at House Barbell Club, 7920 N. Sommer St., Peoria. Murphy was killed in late June 2005 during Operation Red Wings in Afghanistan. His four-man SEAL team was hunting a Taliban leader in Kunar province. Insurgents found his and his team's position and a furious firefight erupted. He was awarded the Medal of Honor posthumously for his courage when he abandoned cover in an effort to call for backup. The firefight and the battle were featured in the movie 'Lone Survivor.' Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
Yahoo
07-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
The Catharsis in Re-Creating One of the Worst Days of Your Life
This article includes spoilers for the film Warfare. Since 2012, Ray Mendoza has been building a hefty Hollywood résumé: performing stunts, choreographing gunfights, and teaching movie stars how to act like soldiers in films such as Act of Valor and Lone Survivor. He also helped design the battle sequences in last year's Civil War, the writer-director Alex Garland's speculative thriller imagining America as an endless combat zone. These projects have been a particularly good fit for him. Mendoza is a former Navy SEAL; two decades ago, during the Iraq War, he was part of a platoon scouting a residential area in Ramadi. One day in November 2006, al-Qaeda forces injured two of his teammates and then exploded an IED while American soldiers attempted to extract the pair. Trapped in a single building, the group waited for a new convoy of rescue tanks that wouldn't arrive for hours. The events are depicted in the film Warfare, now streaming, which Mendoza wrote and directed with Garland. Over the course of a brisk 95 minutes, the viewer watches as the platoon goes from carrying out a typical surveillance exercise to trying to evacuate without harming anyone else. (The skirmish was part of the Battle of Ramadi, an eight-month conflict that left more than 1,000 soldiers, insurgents, and civilians dead.) Yet, for all the combat Warfare depicts, the film doesn't resemble most military movies. Members of the platoon—played by an ensemble of rising stars, including Will Poulter, Charles Melton, and Reservation Dogs' D'Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai as Mendoza—exchange little dialogue, rarely trading first names let alone backstories. Up until the al-Qaeda forces discover their hideout, the action is contained to mundane activities: confirming operations, tracking other platoons' movements. There are no extraneous set pieces to keep the audience's attention, no rousing speeches from world leaders, no context provided about why Ramadi was important to American interests during the Iraq War. The result is a war movie that's mostly a war movie in name only—which is how Mendoza told me he wanted it. In real life, one of the wounded SEALs, Elliott Miller (played by Shōgun's Cosmo Jarvis), never recovered his memory after getting caught in the IED blast. Miller's inability to recall the day's events inspired Mendoza to reconstruct them meticulously. When Mendoza and Garland began developing Warfare, they interviewed as many members of the platoon as they could, corroborating details until they had a version of the experience that they hoped would feel authentic to the people involved. The film makes clear that, to the co-directors, war is a hell made of never-ending protocols, of compartmentalized emotions, of intense bonds built among people taught to move as one indistinguishable unit. As Mendoza put it to me, 'I just wanted to do an accurate representation of what combat was.' And, he added, 'I wanted to re-create it because my friend doesn't remember it.' After the IED explodes, Elliott isn't the only one horrifically injured. Sam (played by Joseph Quinn) wakes to find himself on fire, his legs mangled. For what feels like hours on end to the viewer, Sam howls in pain as his teammates drag him to safety. Warfare is largely devoid of the hallmarks of a Hollywood film—there's no musical score, for instance—and Sam's cries highlight the film's naturalism; they are screams that the movie suggests were as nerve-shredding for Sam's teammates to hear in real life as they are for audience members to hear at home. But Joe Hildebrand, the SEAL on whom Sam is based, told me that he was unaffected by Quinn's performance when he watched it during a visit to the set. 'Everybody kept asking me, 'You okay?'' he recalled. 'I said, 'I'm fine.' I know the outcome. I know how it's gonna turn out.' Hildebrand found the set itself, which was built on a former World War II airfield turned film studio outside London, more visceral. Warfare's crew had meticulously reconstructed the house in which the SEALs hid; looking around, Hildebrand explained, brought back 'little memories'—a conversation he had here, the way a teammate stood there. Together with the real Elliott, who had also stopped by the set, Hildebrand described experiencing a surprising mix of emotions as they exited the house. 'The feeling of going out that gate again, into the street—the last time we did, it did not turn out well at all,' he said. 'It was an odd feeling, but it was a glorious feeling at the same time, because you knew nothing was going to happen on the other side.' [Read: A film that throws out the war-movie playbook] As such, despite its intensity, Warfare offers some semblance of satisfaction—and not just for the SEALs whose memories have been rendered on-screen. Many movies, Mendoza said, have contributed to perpetuating distressing stereotypes about veterans—that they're all suffering from PTSD, too tortured and traumatized to function. He wanted Warfare to push back against generalizations by keeping the audience at an emotional remove. The movie's portrayal of the front lines stays focused on the action. 'Is it disturbing? Yeah,' Mendoza told me of the film's observational nature. 'But it's truthful.' For Hildebrand, being able to revisit the incident and talk with Mendoza about it was therapeutic. After everyone returned home, he told me, their platoon 'kind of just coexisted. Everybody was still friends, but we didn't have parties and get-togethers and even just time to sit down and talk and get those stories out.' Hildebrand said that Warfare enabled him to corroborate his memories with the other men who were there. (He made it clear that he couldn't speak for everyone; some of the SEALs couldn't be reached, and the names of 14 of the 20 men involved have been changed in the film to protect their identity.) For Mendoza, the process of talking about the incident with other members of the platoon, and with Garland, meant having someone 'explaining it back to you probably even in a better way than you described it to them in the first place. And then you feel heard, you feel understood. You're like, Okay, finally I think I'm able to let this go.' Still, Mendoza said, 'Just because the movie's done doesn't mean we're healed.' Every blunder seems to have lingered in their minds: In one scene, Lieutenant Macdonald (Michael Gandolfini) accidentally injects morphine into his own hand while trying to ease Elliott's pain. In another, Erik (Poulter), a captain who had largely ensured that everyone remained calm, suddenly chokes while instructing the platoon on what to do. Some men even kick Sam's legs as they pass by him, a misguided display of bravado that fails to raise spirits and only injures him further. [Read: A civil-war movie with no one worth cheering] Warfare opens with a scene set the night before the incident; in it, the platoon members hype themselves up by watching the notoriously racy music video for Eric Prydz's 'Call on Me,' swaying together as one big, sweaty, testosterone-fueled mass. The movie ends on a shot of the silent Ramadi street after the gunfire has faded. In between, the film, like Civil War, never delves into the politics of the conflict; it neither commends nor condemns the fighting. It just leaves the audience with the sense that the hours the group spent trapped irrevocably changed them. For Mendoza, the explosion that incapacitated his teammates 'rewired' his brain; he told me he's been dreaming about what happened for 20 years. Some of his dreams echo reality. Others, including one in which Elliott gets back up after the explosion and is completely unharmed, are so fantastical and disorienting that Mendoza wishes he won't ever wake up. Working on the film has helped him dissipate some of that confusion. 'I don't know what's real and what's not real sometimes,' he said. But making Warfare 'helped organize those memories and cancel out which ones weren't real,' he told me. 'It just kind of keeps these memories in line.' Article originally published at The Atlantic
Atlantic
07-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Atlantic
The Catharsis in Re-Creating One of the Worst Days of Your Life
This article includes spoilers for the film Warfare. Since 2012, Ray Mendoza has been building a hefty Hollywood résumé: performing stunts, choreographing gunfights, and teaching movie stars how to act like soldiers in films such as Act of Valor and Lone Survivor. He also helped design the battle sequences in last year's Civil War, the writer-director Alex Garland's speculative thriller imagining America as an endless combat zone. These projects have been a particularly good fit for him. Mendoza is a former Navy SEAL; two decades ago, during the Iraq War, he was part of a platoon scouting a residential area in Ramadi. One day in November 2006, al-Qaeda forces injured two of his teammates and then exploded an IED while American soldiers attempted to extract the pair. Trapped in a single building, the group waited for a new convoy of rescue tanks that wouldn't arrive for hours. The events are depicted in the film Warfare, now streaming, which Mendoza wrote and directed with Garland. Over the course of a brisk 95 minutes, the viewer watches as the platoon goes from carrying out a typical surveillance exercise to trying to evacuate without harming anyone else. (The skirmish was part of the Battle of Ramadi, an eight-month conflict that left more than 1,000 soldiers, insurgents, and civilians dead.) Yet, for all the combat Warfare depicts, the film doesn't resemble most military movies. Members of the platoon—played by an ensemble of rising stars, including Will Poulter, Charles Melton, and Reservation Dogs ' D'Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai as Mendoza—exchange little dialogue, rarely trading first names let alone backstories. Up until the al-Qaeda forces discover their hideout, the action is contained to mundane activities: confirming operations, tracking other platoons' movements. There are no extraneous set pieces to keep the audience's attention, no rousing speeches from world leaders, no context provided about why Ramadi was important to American interests during the Iraq War. The result is a war movie that's mostly a war movie in name only—which is how Mendoza told me he wanted it. In real life, one of the wounded SEALs, Elliott Miller (played by Shōgun 's Cosmo Jarvis), never recovered his memory after getting caught in the IED blast. Miller's inability to recall the day's events inspired Mendoza to reconstruct them meticulously. When Mendoza and Garland began developing Warfare, they interviewed as many members of the platoon as they could, corroborating details until they had a version of the experience that they hoped would feel authentic to the people involved. The film makes clear that, to the co-directors, war is a hell made of never-ending protocols, of compartmentalized emotions, of intense bonds built among people taught to move as one indistinguishable unit. As Mendoza put it to me, 'I just wanted to do an accurate representation of what combat was.' And, he added, 'I wanted to re-create it because my friend doesn't remember it.' After the IED explodes, Elliott isn't the only one horrifically injured. Sam (played by Joseph Quinn) wakes to find himself on fire, his legs mangled. For what feels like hours on end to the viewer, Sam howls in pain as his teammates drag him to safety. Warfare is largely devoid of the hallmarks of a Hollywood film—there's no musical score, for instance—and Sam's cries highlight the film's naturalism; they are screams that the movie suggests were as nerve-shredding for Sam's teammates to hear in real life as they are for audience members to hear at home. But Joe Hildebrand, the SEAL on whom Sam is based, told me that he was unaffected by Quinn's performance when he watched it during a visit to the set. 'Everybody kept asking me, 'You okay?'' he recalled. 'I said, 'I'm fine.' I know the outcome. I know how it's gonna turn out.' Hildebrand found the set itself, which was built on a former World War II airfield turned film studio outside London, more visceral. Warfare 's crew had meticulously reconstructed the house in which the SEALs hid; looking around, Hildebrand explained, brought back 'little memories'—a conversation he had here, the way a teammate stood there. Together with the real Elliott, who had also stopped by the set, Hildebrand described experiencing a surprising mix of emotions as they exited the house. 'The feeling of going out that gate again, into the street—the last time we did, it did not turn out well at all,' he said. 'It was an odd feeling, but it was a glorious feeling at the same time, because you knew nothing was going to happen on the other side.' As such, despite its intensity, Warfare offers some semblance of satisfaction—and not just for the SEALs whose memories have been rendered on-screen. Many movies, Mendoza said, have contributed to perpetuating distressing stereotypes about veterans—that they're all suffering from PTSD, too tortured and traumatized to function. He wanted Warfare to push back against generalizations by keeping the audience at an emotional remove. The movie's portrayal of the front lines stays focused on the action. 'Is it disturbing? Yeah,' Mendoza told me of the film's observational nature. 'But it's truthful.' For Hildebrand, being able to revisit the incident and talk with Mendoza about it was therapeutic. After everyone returned home, he told me, their platoon 'kind of just coexisted. Everybody was still friends, but we didn't have parties and get-togethers and even just time to sit down and talk and get those stories out.' Hildebrand said that Warfare enabled him to corroborate his memories with the other men who were there. (He made it clear that he couldn't speak for everyone; some of the SEALs couldn't be reached, and the names of 14 of the 20 men involved have been changed in the film to protect their identity.) For Mendoza, the process of talking about the incident with other members of the platoon, and with Garland, meant having someone 'explaining it back to you probably even in a better way than you described it to them in the first place. And then you feel heard, you feel understood. You're like, Okay, finally I think I'm able to let this go.' Still, Mendoza said, 'Just because the movie's done doesn't mean we're healed.' Every blunder seems to have lingered in their minds: In one scene, Lieutenant Macdonald (Michael Gandolfini) accidentally injects morphine into his own hand while trying to ease Elliott's pain. In another, Erik (Poulter), a captain who had largely ensured that everyone remained calm, suddenly chokes while instructing the platoon on what to do. Some men even kick Sam's legs as they pass by him, a misguided display of bravado that fails to raise spirits and only injures him further. Warfare opens with a scene set the night before the incident; in it, the platoon members hype themselves up by watching the notoriously racy music video for Eric Prydz's ' Call on Me,' swaying together as one big, sweaty, testosterone-fueled mass. The movie ends on a shot of the silent Ramadi street after the gunfire has faded. In between, the film, like Civil War, never delves into the politics of the conflict; it neither commends nor condemns the fighting. It just leaves the audience with the sense that the hours the group spent trapped irrevocably changed them. For Mendoza, the explosion that incapacitated his teammates 'rewired' his brain; he told me he's been dreaming about what happened for 20 years. Some of his dreams echo reality. Others, including one in which Elliott gets back up after the explosion and is completely unharmed, are so fantastical and disorienting that Mendoza wishes he won't ever wake up. Working on the film has helped him dissipate some of that confusion. 'I don't know what's real and what's not real sometimes,' he said. But making Warfare 'helped organize those memories and cancel out which ones weren't real,' he told me. 'It just kind of keeps these memories in line.'
